From the Ashes
by Mrsfillylover
Summary: When a young boy is discovered floating in the River Lethe, Hades takes him back to his palace. Will Hades teach him who he once was? Or will he become one of Hades' obedient soldiers? **Set after TTC before BoTL**
1. Prologue

**A/N _Intended _to be short! This is just the prologue! Future chapters will be longer I promise! **  
**For this fic**  
**A song for this fic: This is Gospel - Panic! At the Disco **  
**Disclaimer: I do not own pjo**

* * *

All was silence. His body floated through a thick substance. It clung to his limbs like glue and slowed his movements like trying to swim through honey. Above the water he heard someone shouting. Or maybe that was just his imagination. Yes, that must be it. But there it was again, a voice, muffled and distorted just enough to prevent him from making out the words.

Then a change. His slow, sleepy state evaporated and he was suddenly enveloped in cold. All around him was noise and confusion. A tight pinching feeling spread around his right forearm that he faintly recognized. _Hold_, that was the word. Someone, or something, was _holding_ him.

Wild fear surged in his chest. He flailed around in a panic. Jerking and wriggling violently to distance himself from the 'thing' gripping him tightly. He cried out, desperately trying to free his arm from his captor's grip. A tight twinge spread through his shoulder, something was wrong there. He had somehow hurt himself. The concept confused him even further, making his struggles become more aggressive.

"Calm down," ordered a low, growling voice.

Instantly, accepted the words. It was as if he had been hypnotized. That voice commanded him, he obeyed. He _should_ calm down. Why was he so upset? There wasn't any real reason for him to panic, was there?

There was something underneath him now, supporting him. Something soft, and sturdy. He was still, no longer fighting, and though the pressure on his arm lessened, it didn't disappear completely.

"What is your name?" the voice asked. He didn't answer. _Your name_? The phrase seemed alien to him, a foreign concept. "What is your name?" the voice asked again, more forcefully this time. He still didn't answer. What was his name? A nagging sensation at the back of his mind told him that the information belonged there but he didn't know what it was yet. Name... what was his name...

"Open your eyes," it was the same voice again.

He obeyed and immediately let out a whine of protest as the sharpness of the light around him burned his adjusting eyes. His eyes watered as they peered at the too bright world around him. The amount of black around him startled him. Why was there bright light in a black room?

"Where are you?" the voice asked.

Again, he felt like he should know the answer but it was just... gone. An empty space in the back of his mind where the information should go.

"Answer me," the voice demanded.

"I-I don't know..." his voice sounded strange and unfamiliar even to himself, as if it belonged to someone else entirely.

"Vlacas," the voice muttered. "Look at me."

He did. Sat beside him was a man with black, oily hair and cold, dark eyes. His skin was pale, looking almost like snow against his hair, eyes, and clothing.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked.

"No," he replied.

"Do you know who you are?"

"No," he said again.

The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. That gesture seemed familiar to him, something he had seen before but he couldn't think where. "At least that's somewhere to start," the man muttered. He frowned, S_tart what? _"Your name," the man began, "is Nico di Angelo."


	2. A Mother's Perspective

**A/N I am back! Sorry it took a while but I wanted to make the chapter as long as I could without it being too lengthy. Just a quick reminder that this story does NOT have a beta as I'm working on writing without assistance and any suggestions and corrections you have are welcomed.  
For this fic:  
Dislcamier: I do not own PJO**

* * *

Much to Nico's delight, the man who had been speaking with him for the past hour or so had no interest in hurting him. In fact the man was his father, according to him anyway. The way Nico had heard the story, he had been discovered nearly dead by one of his father's servants- a fury he thought was the word Hades had used, though he couldn't quite recall- and brought to the palace immediately. Since then, Nico had been sitting up in bed, listening to his father tell him who he was. Hades had told him his age, name, and country of origin but didn't seem to be much interested in going into detail.

From what Nico could tell, Hades was an astute, stern man though he did seem to genuinely care for both his son and his wife. He had indulged Nico's many questions but any whinging about short answers was stamped out fairly quickly. At the end of his questioning, Hades had informed Nico that it was time for him to go. That he had other things to attend to but that Nico should stay in the room he had been in for an hour already and not wander off.

After Hades' departure it hadn't taken long for Nico to slip into a deep sleep. _He was standing in an open pavilion. Several long tables partnered with two benches each filled the large space and each was crowded with people. The conversations taking place between the groups of friends were far too loud for comfort in Nico's opinion. For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to a group of three teenagers sat together on the end of one of the long benches seemingly engrossed in a private conversation._

_"It's been almost a week, Perce," one of them was saying. The boy seemed several years older than his two friends, had brown curly hair, and wore a rasta cap paired with a green T-shirt that read in large, yellow letters 'TREE HUGGER'. "Maybe he isn't coming back."_

_"Then we have to find him," another of the two boys affirmed. This one looked about thirteen, his black hair stuck up in all directions and he had shadows under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in days._

_"Percy," said the third, a girl with blonde hair and tan skin, "Nico might not want to be found." Nico frowned at that. Were they talking about him? He didn't remember them but then again, he didn't remember anything else either._

_"We have to keep trying," the boy with the black hair insisted._

_Percy Nico thought the others had called him. "Who knows what'll happen if he stays out there alone. And what if he ends up with you know... him."_

_"The odds of him ending up_

_there aren't exactly likely are they?" the girl said, eyebrows raised._

_"Guys," the one with the cap said nervously. "Does anyone else get the feeling we're being... watched?"_

_"What do you mean, Grover?" Percy asked._

_"I don't know," he said, sniffing the air like a dog tracking a scent, "just a feeling. It smells like half-bloods."_

_"Look around," the girl said, "we're in a demigod camp. What did you expect?"_

_"No it's different. Almost like it's been tainted. Kind of like a monster but... not quite the same."_

_"You sure?" Percy questioned. "This isn't just a-"_

_"I'm sure, Percy. Something's happening and it doesn't look good for us."_

* * *

It was just as gloomy as always in the throne room when Hades and his wife were hearing the day's petitioners for rebirth. It was a dreary job, hearing the reasons people who were already dead had for prepared to convince their rulers that they deserved another life. Because of that, anyone would have thought Hades' leaning his head on his right hand and sending almost all petitioners back out of the throne room with a monotonous, "No," was normal. His wife, however, knew him well, she knew just how seriously he took his responsibilities as King of the Underworld and she knew that something was definitely wrong.

"Alright, get out!" Persephone ordered, making shooing gestures with her hands. The skeleton soldiers, and petitioners slowly trickled out of the room grumbling.

"Persephone," Hades said in a low, deep voice, turning his head to look at his wife without lifting it from his hand, "what are you doing?"

"I'm being a good wife, don't ruin it." Hades rolled his eyes. "So what's on your mind this time?"

Hades had already decided, he would recreate the son he had once had. A new, disciplined, better trained, well educated son. If it took all the riches of the Underworld, he would achieve his goal. It would just be extremely difficult, after all, he had plenty of work to do if Nico was ever to be the child he had always wanted, the child all of Olympus would hail as a hero.

He sighed and sat up straight, dropping his hand to dangle over the side of the throne's arm. "I don't suppose there is a way to make you drop this, is there?" Persephone gave him a pointed look. "My son... it was going to be hard enough to train him before, when he knew who he was and what that meant. Now I will have to build a hero out of an empty shell."

"Maybe that isn't such a bad thing," Persephone said thoughtfully. "You can mold him into the son you always wanted."

Hades narrowed his eyes, "You are being awfully amiable to having my son in the palace."

"Well..." she blushed. "I can't have any children of my own, you know that. And, well... if he doesn't remember that his mother is a mortal..."

"You want to claim Nico as your own," Hades finished. "Is that truly why you have always despised my children? Out of envy?"

"Yes," she conceded. "_I _am your wife. _I _should be the mother of your children. Not those mortals."

"Then that is what we will do." Hades reached for one of Persephone's delicate hands and held it to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. "Nico will be your son."

* * *

When Hades entered his son's bedroom he saw nothing more than he had expected. The boy slept, his raven hair was spread around his head like a dark halo, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath. The god sat down in the chair he had had set next to his son's bed and glanced to the door, waiting for his wife's arrival. He needed to stage the moment just right if he wanted to ensnare the boy's loyalty and tie it to his family permanently.

Right on cue, the door swung open and Persephone entered the room. The sound jerked Nico out of his slumber and he squirmed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Hades seemed not to notice that his son was awake and turned in his seat to speak to his wife.

"What are you doing in here, Persephone?"

The goddess looked pained, her eyes flicking from her husband to the boy sat up in bed and back again. "I- I haven't seen him since you brought him back."

Hades waved his hand and another chair appeared beside him, waiting for Persephone to take it. He smiled, or at least lifted the corners of his lips a little, and gestured for her to join him.

"Father?" said a small voice. Both gods turned their gazes on the young boy sitting up in a sea of black fabric. He cleared his throat and said, much more clearly this time, "Who is this?"

Hades and Persephone exchanged a quick look, the time had come to put their plan into action. "This," Hades said, meeting his son's eyes again, "is your mother."

Persephone smiled softly, and reached a hand out to take Nico's in hers. "You don't remember, do you?" Nico shook his head. "Then I suppose we will have to teach you. You'll relearn what you already knew but it won't be easy."

"We will have to start soon," Hades said, "you have quite a lot to do."

Nico looked at his mother apprehensively, "How long will it take?"

Persephone let out a tinkling laugh, "You'll never be bored."

* * *

Nico tightened his grip on the knife clenched tightly in his hand. The cool, leather hilt was slick against his sweaty palm. He could feel the muscles in his shoulders tighten as he wound back his arm to throw. When he released the knife spun, blade over handle until it stuck, quivering in place, in the target. It hit barely an inch from the center but still, not perfect.

He heard a sigh from somewhere behind him. "Not quite," Hades said, stepping closer to his son. "_Focus_, Nico," he urged, handing Nico a second throwing knife, "plant your feet."

Nico frowned in concentration as he wound his arm back to throw for a second time. The blade hit the target just to the left of the bullseye. Nico squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable lecture.

"I just need a bit of practice," he pleaded, trying to head off what he knew would be coming.

"What you need is a bit of self-discipline," Hades growled back. "I have been too lax with your training, Nico. You need to learn what you knew before and you need to do it quickly."

"Father-"

"From now on your training time is be doubled."

"I'm try-"

"And your lessons as well."

Nico glared at the ground, knowing arguing was futile. He understood the importance of his training and education but sometimes Hades expected more than he could give. It wasn't easy, being the son of a god. The honor and responsibility that came with it had been drilled into his head by his mother ever since he had woken up six months ago but the pressure wore down on Nico and made him irritable. He was more easily discouraged than he had been and his determination was quickly wavering.

"Fine," he said bitterly.

Hades waved his hand and the two knives vanished from the target and reappeared in his hand. "Do it again," he said, handing one to his son.

As Persephone watched her adopted son try again and again to become proficient in knife throwing a sick feeling settled in her stomach. Should they really be doing this? Was it wrong to expect a demigod, especially one so young, rise to Hades' expectations? She had jumped at the chance to take Nico in but now that months had passed she couldn't help but feel like what she had done was _wrong_. The boy didn't even know who his own mother was! Still, she knew it would destroy her to see the look of betrayal in the boy's eyes if he was ever told the truth.

She turned away from Nico's efforts in the training room and left for her chambers. True, it might have been kinder to step in and tell Hades to go easy but he had told her in no uncertain terms that his training methods would not be questioned. In return, Persephone was granted complete freedom to mother and coddle _outside _of the training room without any risk of being judged by either her husband or her adopted son.

Perhaps it was her inability to have children of her own that made her so set on taking that role in Nico's life. _Barren, _she thought savagely, _what a horrid term. _Persephone had run herself ragged searching for someone to blame, her father, her mother, her husband, herself, that gods-forsaken pomegranate, before she had finally accepted the simple fact that she would never have children. The knowledge that she and her husband would never have children together had constantly gnawed at her insides until, six months ago, a young boy with dark hair had appeared in the River Styx. It was the reason she had let loose her fury on whichever poor child was unlucky enough to be sired by her husband. The jealousy that a mere mortal could take her place as the mother of Hades' children. _He _should_ be my son,_ she thought, desperately trying to convince herself of that fact, _I am his father's wife, I should have raised him from the beginning. _But she hadn't. It had been that woman, Maria di Angelo, who had cared for Nico during the first nine years of his life. That woman who had died because of her children. That woman who Hades had grieved for.


End file.
